


Lie Back and Think of Dumbledore

by squarepeg



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Lives, Crack Treated Seriously, Dark Albus Dumbledore, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, F/M, Forced Marriage, Gen, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, Prophecy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:26:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25705846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squarepeg/pseuds/squarepeg
Summary: Dumbledore is alive and arranging marriages to save the entire wizarding populace.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Charlie Weasley, Hannah Abbott/Percy Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Millicent Bulstrode & Draco Malfoy, Millicent Bulstrode/Bill Weasley, Padma Patil/George Weasley, Parvati Patil/Fred Weasley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	1. The Prophecy

**Author's Note:**

> This is a crazy crack fic that I couldn't get out of my head. Just a silly rewrite where Dumbledore lives and continues to manipulate people by foisting prophecies upon them. I wrote one chapter for each pairing. Thanks for giving it a shot!

Clearly Draco was suffering from the dastardly effects of some jealous bitches curse or hex or pox or something else very sneaky and sinister because that was the only explanation for this miserable turn of events. This was officially the worst day of his life. If his father wasn’t being held hostage by a madman at the Manor, he’d absolutely bury the Headmaster alive. It'd serve him right. 

Dumbledore sat passively behind his ornately wacky desk, observing six of his seventh year students mildly from above his half moon spectacles. Hermione Granger, the Patil twins and Hannah Abbott all looked fairly resigned to the news he had delivered moments before. Draco Malfoy was just about ready to follow through on his failed mission and actually slaughter the kooky blighter this time. Millie Bulstrode evidently had no idea what she was doing there at all because her expression was blank as a Weasley's bank account, Draco snickered to himself. 

“Professor,” Granger, predictably, was the first to break the awkward silence. “May I see the prophecy for myself?”

“Of course,” Dumbledore obliged. “You’ll see it reads as true as I told you all.”

Hermione nodded at him to show that she understood and held out her hand expectantly for the worn parchment. This particular prophecy had been uncovered at the tragically botched Department of Mysteries affair. Dumbledore was keeping that to himself, however, as it wouldn’t be prudent to bring up that origin story with the young Mr. Malfoy present. All of the students listened intently to Hermione read the words again as they tried to parse out what exactly was expected of them.

“In 1998, six seventh years will marry six brothers Weasley in hand-me-down wears. The healthiest witch for a cursebreaker, a dragon for his tamer, a head girl for a head boy, twins for twins, and for the youngest his deepest love,” Granger’s face turned as red as the Weasley’s signature hair color. “These lifelong unions are the wanted price if one wishes to keep everyone but Voldemort alive.”

That was just as stupid the second time through, Draco thought. He looked at the girls again and saw that the Patil twins were practically over the moon at the idea of marrying those identical jester boys. He would concede that the Weasley twins were tall and buff but it would truly be a fate worse than death to be stuck with either of those clowns. Millie, for her part, was confusedly mouthing the words ‘healthiest witch’ to herself and scrunching up her patrician nose. Meanwhile, Hannah and Granger looked ready to lie back and think of England or Dumbledore or whatever the hell it was he was asking them to think of when they consummated the marriages of this otherworldly heinous prophecy. 

“We all must make sacrifices for the war effort. Harry Potter has been working to defeat Voldemort since he was an infant, he gave up all the love that he was owed as a child to make sure that peace will come again. This is what is needed from you all to support the light.”

“I will gladly do my part,” Hannah Abbott’s voice was strong and certain like any idiot Hufflepuff would be when faced with a chance to demonstrate their loyalty. 

“Me too, Professor.” Of course Granger was eager to once again throw her support behind another goody goody cause. Draco was only surprised that Dumbledore hadn’t awarded points to Gryffindor already for her superb public speaking skills and enthusiastic assent to this absurdity. 

“I don’t understand,” His friend Millie decided to voice her concerns aloud. “Am I supposed to be the healthiest witch?”

“Yes, Ms. Bulstrode, I consulted with Madam Pomfrey about all of the yearly physicals for your class and you have consistently been the paragon of health.”

“Huh.” She looked stunned and Draco couldn’t blame her for that. “And who’s the cursebreaker?”

“Bill Weasley,” Granger butted in, she could never pass up an opportunity to show off. “He’s the oldest brother.”

“How old is he?” Her plump heart shaped lips turned downward in disgust, emphasizing her double chin, as she considered the possibility of an older husband. 

“I think he just turned twenty-eight,” Granger shrugged as if that was no big deal. 

“You’re having me on!” Millie’s voice rose and Draco silently cheered her on. “I am not marrying someone eleven years older than me. I don’t even care about the sodding war effort.”

“Finally someone with sense,” said Draco snidely, pointedly looking at the other four girls in the room. 

“Mr. Malfoy, if you have any viable plans to circumvent the specifications of this critical prophecy, which ensures the safety of everyone except Voldemort, then I will gladly hear your opinion. If you do not, I beg you to keep quiet.”

Oh no, he was not going to let Dumbledore bully him into this bullshit. 

“It’s utter nonsense! And I resent the implication that I need to be tamed.” 

“You’re forgetting that you owe me a life debt. Again, I beg you to keep quiet.”

Draco seethed and ruminated on a million ways to kill the insufferable man before him. He’d do it quickly. He’d draw it out. He’d tell his father to do it! Lucius would really make the monster pay. That’d show him. Stupid life debt, it wasn’t like he had asked the Headmaster to catch him when Potter threw him over the edge of the Astronomy Tower. Death would’ve been only too sweet in comparison to this waking nightmare. 

“We’ll marry the twins for the cause.” The Patils creepily singsonged their agreement in unison. See? Nightmare! 

Millie, Draco’s one shining beacon of pragmatism amongst a sea of believers, made her final attempt to sway fortune in their favor. “What would happen if I refuse?”

“Then you will be the first to die in the next battle. I’ll make sure of it,” Dumbledore solemnly swore. The four girls who had naively willed the rest of their lives away gasped and spluttered at him in their shock. Draco arched his eyebrows and sent them all a look that he hoped conveyed a considerable dosage of 'I told you so.' The Headmaster was a smarmy bastard who probably had tons of skeletons in his strange purple closets. 

Millie looked like she was about to lose her lunch. Poor girl. Draco reached out and held her hand. It wasn’t her fault that they were stuck in this impossible situation but none of these other buffoons were getting a single iota of his sympathy. He resolutely refused to even look at the imbeciles any longer. 

“I need you all to nod if you understand your roles.” Dumbledore asked the rag tag group and watched as the six students halfheartedly jiggled their heads to signal that, yes, they’d do their part. “Wonderful. I’ll fetch your grooms from the hall.”


	2. Bill and Millie

The Weasley brothers dutifully filed into the office one after the other. They were followed by their parents and…was that Fleur Delacour? Why was she here? And why did she look so irate? Draco couldn’t even imagine being on the bad side of a veela on top of everything else on this godforsaken day. 

“Which of zeze children is marrying my Bill?” She asked, wildly eyeing each and every one of them with open contempt. 

Uh oh, Draco thought as he let go of Millie’s hand and positioned himself between his friend and the imposing woman in front of them. Fleur quickly and correctly assumed that the sturdy girl behind him was the one who’d stolen her fiancée. She stalked over to him imperiously. 

“Move, garçon,” She looked down her nose at him. Well, well, well if that’s how she wanted to tango, then Draco was more than ready to play the pomposity game. He’d stake his fortune that he was better at it than her, too. 

“Non, Madame,” Draco purposefully chose to call her madame instead of mademoiselle, a slight which had Fleur flaring her nostrils in a way that marred her gorgeous face. She was obviously not a pureblooded veela with an expression like that, he thought derisively, and thank Merlin for small wonders. Defying her would’ve been a suicide mission otherwise. He fixed her with a stern glare and wetly spat, “I won’t be going anywhere.”

Weaselbee and his twin brothers erupted into peals of laughter. Cretins. Though, it seemed that they were laughing at Fleur wiping his saliva off of her face rather than at Draco himself. Perhaps those three weren’t completely devoid of taste after all. 

“Fleur,” The long and lanky one with a scar on his cheek reached out to pull the snarling blond woman back. “Leave the kids alone.”

“I will do no such zing! Zeze kids have ruined everything and now zis chubby one is making a mistress of me by stealing my life mate,” She shoved her pointer finger over Draco’s shoulder and into Millie’s sternum. “I am no mistress, Bill Weasley.”

“Sweetheart, please, I think you should go back to the cottage so we can talk about this later. Now’s not the time,” Bill pleaded with his fiancée. Fleur’s chin wobbled. She was unused to rejection and had little idea how to hide it, which is probably why she acquiesced to his plea quickly and left the group in a flurry of billowing robes. 

“If there are no other visitors or surprises,” Albus looked at each of them in turn while deciding whether they were all capable of behaving. “We’ll be getting on it with it then. I am ordained to officiate these weddings and they will be happening here tonight.”

There was a nearly collective gasp from everyone in the room. Draco, once again, wasn’t surprised at all. Albus Dumbledore was the worst. These people were truly obtuse to plain facts. 

“Bill,” Dumbledore nodded near sympathetically at the eldest Weasley brother, as close as he would come to an acknowledgment that Bill was making a larger sacrifice than most others. “Ms. Bulstrode, I need you to both stand in front of me and face one another.”

Millie’s expression hadn’t changed too much since the brothers had joined them. She still looked positively green and not in the lovely, captivating way that some women look when they are envious. The arrival of her intended and his fiancée justifiably increased the likelihood of her retching, in Draco’s estimation, but he would be damned if one of his friends embarrassed herself like that in a room full of blood traitorous Weasley men and their, honestly pretty intimidating, matriarch. 

Before anyone could stop him, Draco whipped out his wand and created a tremulous, invisible privacy bubble around the two of them. It was advanced magic that he wasn’t very practiced in so they didn’t have long, but at least the Weasley’s, Dumbledore, and the more daft girls were unable to hear them for now. He turned around to embrace his friend. Even though public displays of affection weren’t the done thing in pureblood circles, he wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone. 

“Draco,” Millie breathed quietly into his ear and Draco realized that she didn’t know about his spell. “I can’t do this. Did you see that woman, she was gorgeous. I’m not, I can’t—I can’t.” Millie’s voice hitched and she couldn’t seem to find the words to continue. 

Draco pushed her away to hold her shoulders at arm’s length and shook her firmly twice, then again for good measure. “Millicent Bulstrode,” he whispered as well to keep up the charade. “You are beautiful and you are witty and you are a Slytherin. Fleur Delacour has absolutely nothing on you. She went to Beauxbatons for Merlin’s sake. Imagine the lack of education! And a veela? Please.”

Millie regarded him with a disbelieving stare. “Draco, I am the great white whale of Slytherin House. You called me that. And she is a veela, creature blood notwithstanding, she’s a goddess. I want to marry her!”

“First of all, you should never listen to me. Was that in second year? I was probably trying to get a rise out of Goyle, he had a crush on you. And second of all, you might be able to have them both if you play your cards right.” Draco waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

“Draco! I’ve never even — I can’t — that would be —” She spluttered indignantly while Draco laughed in her face, forgetting for a moment that he had his own Weasley to marry and reveling openly in the odd, yet possibly titillating, situation facing his friend. “Stop it! This isn’t funny.”

Draco’s giggles, which had escalated past sincerity to the point of hysteria fairly quickly, rose even higher in pitch and volume as he took in the scene surrounding them. Every redhead in the crowd was gawking at the two Slytherin students, Dumbledore and Granger looked begrudgingly impressed by his ward, and the Patil girls were oblivious to it all, predictably making eyes at Fred and George instead of watching the action. 

Then, Draco’s attention landed on Hannah who was fidgeting nervously only a few inches to his right. Surprisingly, she looked like she wanted to enter their bubble. He waved her inside to the shock of everyone else in the room.

“Abbott!” He exclaimed loudly through his subsiding laughter. Millie swatted him on the chest and shushed him just as brashly. “Tell Millie that she is beautiful, please.”

Hannah had tensed up when Draco called her by her last name, but her entire demeanor softened when she realized why her more cunning classmates had put up the ward. “Millie,” she said kindly. “You are gorgeous. I’ve always been jealous of your high cheekbones and your perfect teeth.”

“See! And Abbott isn’t your friend so you can trust her.” Draco nodded at both girls, proud of himself for solving Millie’s self-esteem issue. Maybe he should consider a career as a life coach, he thought, since this was going so swimmingly. 

“So that’s how Slytherins work, huh? You need the opinions of casual acquaintances to sort out the truth?” Hannah smiled slyly at the two of them to let them know that she was in on the joke. 

“That’s it exactly,” said Draco. 

“I’ve never had a cavity.” Millie conceded, skirting the comments on her appearance to focus on the facts that she could clearly agree were true. “And I am the healthiest witch in our year.”

“That’s a girl,” Draco smiled encouragingly. “Now take those perfect teeth over to Dumbledore and go get hitched so we don’t die.” Draco lifted his wand and started flicking his wrist to dismantle the bubble before quickly realizing that it was already gone. His face fell dramatically. He asked the room, “How much did you hear?”

“Everything after you dragged Hannah into your huddle, mate.” Weaselbee looked positively amused by him. Euuugh, Draco thought, the last thing he needed was Ron as a friend. Ron as an imminent brother-in-law was distasteful enough. 

“Wonderful,” Draco sneered with as much haughty pretense as he could muster, but it only made Weaslbee's smile wider. 

“That’s not gonna work anymore. I’ve seen past your snotty veneer, Malfoy. You care about your friends,” Ron teased. 

Draco was three seconds away from pummeling his classmate when Millie and Hannah each grabbed an arm and restrained him. 

“Draco is a mediocre friend at best, Weasley,” Millie defended him. “He’s a prat most of the time.”

Millie could always be counted to say exactly the right thing. Draco beamed at her brightly and turned to glare at Ron, but he first caught the gaze of a ruggedly handsome, well-muscled and artfully tattooed Weasley who was beaming brightly at him. That Weasley stole his breath away and made him forget all about the younger, bothersome one. 

The lanky one that Millie was set to marry took the opportunity that Draco’s silence finally afforded him to clear his throat and draw everyone’s attention to himself. 

“Millicent, is it?” He asked his bride. 

“I go by Millie.” 

“Millie, I know that marrying an already engaged man ten years older than you isn’t the most ideal situation. And I know that Fleur isn’t the most understanding partner. I’m sorry about that, but I am not sorry that I have to marry you. Marrying you is going to keep everyone that we both love alive and well,” Bill gestured broadly at everyone gathered around them. “And I think that in time, after you finish your seventh year, and once Fleur calms down, then the three of us might settle into a very nice and loving relationship at Shell Cottage. But for now, I want you to know that I am marrying you happily. My main reason for doing so isn’t even for the betterment of our world,” Bill smiled widely at the gob-smacked girl in front of him. “I want to marry you because I am a selfish man who very much relishes the prospect of having two gorgeous women attached to me for the rest of my life.”

Molly gasped at her son’s audacity, but Millie was set at ease by his brazen speech. She could easily relate to Bill’s almost Slytherin-like line of reasoning. She envisioned herself, years in the future, sandwiched between a towering, sinewy cursebreaker and a literal goddess. Suddenly, this didn’t seem so bad at all.


End file.
